


The Hunter Who Can't Sleep

by YoyoDeano



Series: Bam! Went My Heart [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bickering, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Boys In Love, Case Fic, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel and Jack Kline are Hunting, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Grumpy Dean Winchester, Human Castiel, Human Castiel in the Bunker, Hunter Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Witches, hunter husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 13:24:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16934052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoyoDeano/pseuds/YoyoDeano
Summary: Dean has always been kind of a dick but during this case, his attitude has been getting out of hand.It started when he reluctantly kissed Cas goodbye to go on a hunt with Sam while his boyfriend took Jack on a case of their own in Iowa. The brothers travelling in the opposite direction towards Utah for a possible witch.--Warnings in the notes.





	The Hunter Who Can't Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! A character experiences an anxiety attack
> 
> Please read previous parts before this one!

Dean has always been kind of a dick but during this case, his attitude has been getting out of hand.

It started when he reluctantly kissed Cas goodbye to go on a hunt with Sam while his boyfriend took Jack on a case of their own in Iowa. The brothers travelling in the opposite direction towards Utah for a possible witch.

Dean got into his car with Sam entering in the passenger’s side and for the first four hours they sat in silence. No music, none of Dean’s lame jokes when they passed a humorous billboard, nothing. It was starting to freak Sam out, so he turned on the cassette player, still nothing from Dean. He would be halfway into belting out a crappy rendition of “Highway to Hell” by now but no reaction.

Sam sighed, whatever has got his brother in a foul mood must really be important for him not to mimic a guitar during it’s solo in “Welcome to the Jungle”. He rubbed his forehead “Dude, I can’t take this anymore, what’s wrong?”

Dean shook his head like he was in a daydream “What?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline “You, you’ve had this constipated look on your face since we left. What happened?”

Dean scrunched up his eyebrows “Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“Bullshit”

“Man-“

“Bullshit. You’re not fine, just tell me what’s wrong.”

Dean scoffed, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel “Get off my back, I said I’m fine.”

Sam threw his hands up and ran his fingers through his hair “So what, are you worried about something?”

“No.”

“Are you worried about Cas going on a hunt because you told him to keep you posted-“

“No. I said, get off my back, Sam. Holy shit. Just let me drive in peace. Can you do that?” Dean practically spat out.

Sam blinked, taken aback at the harsh tone in his brother’s voice. Sam grabbed his bag, pulling out his earbuds “Fine, be a dick then.” He tucked each bud in his ears and shuffling his body closer to his side of the car.

Ten minutes pass, and Dean’s shoulders sagged when he sighed, patting Sam’s arm to catch his attention “C’mon, tell me about the case.” He said, his voice much softer then his gruff tone before.

Sam took out his earbuds, rolling his eyes but grabbed his folder from his bag.

“What happened to the vics?”

Sam flipped open the folder, grumbling to the word “Asshole” to himself. He rubbed his forehead “First, Victim, Christian Davidson died from cutting out his own tongue. Wife found him dead in their bathroom.”

Dean grimaced “What’s with witches and body mutilation?”

“And get this, second vic, Harold Cannes died from choking on teeth.”

“Teeth?”

Sam clenched his own teeth for a moment “Yeah, not his own teeth though.”

Dean groaned “Dude-“

“I know”

\----

Sam’s phone buzzed when he tossed his bag down on the motel mattress, he glanced at Dean before checking it. It was Cas. Sam had texted him earlier to ask if something happened to put Dean in a sour mood.

_He was up most of the night. -Castiel_

Sam frowned, glancing once more at Dean. Makes sense, he should’ve seen the bloodshot look in Dean’s eyes and the puffiness underneath them. He was too concerned with worrying about his brother’s attitude to notice the details that would give the reason away.

Nightmares.

Anxiety.

Stress.

It was clear as day and written all over Dean’s hunched up shoulders and the raw scratchy sound in his voice that sounded like he swallowed broken glass.

Sam felt like a moron for not seeing the signs first. He wouldn’t have tried to press the topic of Dean’s grouchiness if he had just figured it out sooner.

His phone buzzed again, pulling him out of berating himself for the moment.

_Make sure he rests. -Castiel_

Sam nodded to himself. Dean would pitch a fit if Sam told him to take a nap saying that he’s not a baby or whatever, but Dean really looked like he needed it.

_Yea got it. I’ll knock him out if I have to. -Sam_

Dean was unpacking his gear, but he didn’t seem be there. He was moving but it was too robotic like he was concentrating hard on getting from point A to point B.

Sam took two long strides over to his brother. Dean didn’t notice.

“Dean.”

He made a sound like he heard Sam but didn’t stop his unpacking. It must’ve been a _really_ rough night.

Sam clapped his hands in Dean’s ear “Hey!”

Dean flinched and turned to Sam, backing up a few steps “Dude, what?”

Sam’s sighed in relief before turning to walk back to sit on his bed “Just making sure you’re with me.”

He felt Dean’s glare burn into his skull as he pulled off his boots. “Don’t Dr. Phil me, I’m not in the mood.”

“You need a nap or something. You’re being an ass.”

“And you’re being a bitch.”

“Look, it’s either you go to sleep or we go through mental exercises because you don’t seem here right now and I’m not hunting with you like this.”

Dean clenched the shirt he was holding in his hand. Sam hated to piss him off, but Dean really did need to sleep. He could angry all he wanted as long as he laid the hell down and slept.

But Dean is standing still and obviously wanting nothing more than to clock Sam in the face then he rolled his eyes virtually threw his shoes off. He laid down with his back to his younger brother and it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

_And he’s out like a light -Sam_

\--

It was hot and Dean felt like he’s dying.

He knew he’s wasn’t. He’s breathing. But it was coming out in short heaves of his chest.

Dean threw his blanket off of him, it felt wrong and scratchy and constricting.

Where was he again? Right, he was home. In his room. He’s safe.

 He looked to his right and it’s empty. Cas, where is Cas? Dean touched the sheet and it burned his fingertips.

Dean rubbed his eyes, he didn’t like that. His hands feel wet and dirty against his skin. Blinking, he looks around again. He’s not home. He’s alone. He's not safe.

The pounding in his chest made its way into his ears. Blood rushing behind his ear drums.

Phone. If he could just find his phone, he could call someone. Dean fumbled through his pockets and clicked on his cracked phone screen.

2 text messages from Cas.

Cursing, Dean pressed his hands against his ears. Maybe if the pounding in his head would stop for ten seconds he could think straight.

Cas is his…partner? Yes. Partner. Where is he? He doesn't know.

Dean squinted and hit the call button on his phone. Becoming acutely aware of how shallow he is breathing. Not good. Dying. He was suffocating to death.

“Hello?”

Cas. “Cas? Where are you? You’re not here.”

“Iowa.”

Dean shook his head and squeezed the bridge of his nose “No, no, no,-“

There’s a ruffling sound in the background like Cas is moving “Dean-“

“Come here. It‘s not safe here”

“Dean, where are you?”

He looked around briefly before closing his eyes again, the unfocusing and focusing of his eyes made it head pound harder. He took a deep inhale. Nothing looked the same, it was colder and darker than he remembered.  “I don’t know.”

“You do know. Breathe, yes you do know.”

Exhaling quickly, he didn’t want to open his eyes again.  “Come here.”

“Dean, I can’t. I promise, it’s safe there.” Cas sounded upset. He didn’t like that. Did he make Cas upset?

“You’re mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad at you. I’m fine, You’re fine. Say it.”

“I’m fine.”

“Again. Breathe with it this time”

Dean took a deep breath. Cas said Dean is fine, he can trust Cas. “I’m fine.”

“And you’re safe. Say it.”

Nodding, Dean felt the lump in his throat lessen “I’m safe.”

“Where are you? Tell me about your surroundings.”

Dean opened his eyes, feeling brave enough to look around. “A motel room.” It didn’t look like this ten seconds ago. It felt familiar now and not strange and new like before. “It has two beds. A table. Tacky wallpaper.”

There was a chuckle in the receiver “Tacky wallpaper? What color is it?”

Dean squinted at the wall “I dunno, green? With orange flowers or something.”

“That does sound tacky.”

Dean scratched lightly at his arm “Sorry, Cas.”

“Don’t. We talked about this.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair “I know, baby, I know.” His head hurt like a train hit it but at least he can breathe out his nose again. “I just feel like a little bitch. Yaknow? Letting my shit get to my head. I’m supposed to be the strong one.”

Cas sighed. A frustrated one. Dean could basically feel the eye roll through the phone “You are the only person I know who saves the world on a yearly basis and yet still think he is worth the dirt everyone walks on.”

Dean looked down in his lap. “Yeah, I know.”  He looked to his left and there’s a sticky note with Sam’s neat handwriting on it, saying he went to get food.

He hunkered down into the pillows, considering going back to sleep. “What are you doin’?”

“In the bathroom at the motel room.”

“Stay on the phone with me till I fall asleep?” Dean knew he sounded needy, but his head hurt, and he felt exhausted so sue him.

“Of course, Dean. I’m going to go talk to Jack about our case and I’ll keep the call going, how about that?”

Sure, Dean would’ve agreed to anything if it meant he could listen to Cas talk some more “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Okay.” Dean heard more ruffling in the background, a chair scrape and then Jack’s voice in the distance. Cas was talking to him, but Dean wasn’t really focusing on the words being said. He exhaled deeply, letting his thoughts flow freely.

He really does love Cas. Very deeply, more than Dean is comfortable to admit out loud.

Dean was about to slip into sleep again, listening to the sound of his partner’s voice on the phone, when a single sentence entered his thoughts.

Marry him.

Alright. Cool.

Dean’s surprisingly okay with that. The logistics can be sorted out later when he can think clearer but that thought is nice enough to sleep on.

\---

Sam was relieved that Dean seemed to be in better spirits after some well-deserved rest. Back to his regular pain in the ass big brother-self. He was sure to message Cas that Dean was feeling better, so the ex-angel can stop worrying and focus on his own case.

After casing the body at the morgue, the next day, Sam called Dean who just got done talking to Christian Davidson’s wife.

“So, get this, the guy had what’s called a “witch’s eye” tattooed on his ankle.”

“Really?” Dean voice sounded through the phone “Well, guess him and Chris went to the same tattoo parlor then.”

“Same tattoo?”

“Matches the picture you sent.”

Sam walked down to the sidewalk where Dean would meet him soon. It was a fairly small town, there was one of each building in the community. One hospital, one convenience store, and one tattoo shop, it wasn’t hard for Sam to narrow down where the men went to get the work done. The woman in the morgue giving him the directions to it saying it was “Right across the street from the only liquor store in town.” good business choice for the tattoo shop.

 “Guess we pay a visit to the artist then.”

\--

Entering the tattoo parlor, the smell of cinnamon incense burning in the corner filled Sam’s lungs. Dean sniffed and rubbed his nose, glancing at Sam, mentally noting that he smelled it too.

There was a small looking woman hunched over sketches, she with sleeves of tattoos inking up both her arms. She couldn’t have been older than 30. When the pair walked closer, she looked up and took her glasses off as they hung by a chain around her neck. “Hey, I’m Katie. Can I help you boys?”

Dean flashed a badge “FBI, I’m Agent Plant and this is Agent Bonham. We’re here to ask about two clients that came in here for some tattoos.”

Katie shrugged “That’s why anyone comes in here, Agent. It is a tattoo parlor.” Sam looked around and spotted a deck of cards at the end of her desk “That does Tarot?”

The woman shifted “I-I do it on the side. Small town, they don’t really look kindly on that sort of thing.”

“Is that why you’re burning cinnamon? For protection?” Sam pressed. Hoping to get something out of the artist.

She grimaced, not taking the bait “What does this have to do with my clients again?”

Dean quickly pulled out the images of the two victims and held them out to Katie “Christian Davidson and Harold Cannes were in here. Christian visited last week while Harold was in two weeks ago.” Pulling out the image of the tattoo giving that to the woman as well “Both had this tattooed on their ankles.”

Katie perched her glasses on her nose and took the images “Yeah, I recognize them. Heard that they died.”

“Notice anything off about them?” Sam asked

She examined the picture of the tattoo “Besides the fact that they were serial cheaters. Nope.”

Dean stuttered “Serial cheaters?”

Katie handed the papers back to Dean before continuing “Yeah, everyone but their wives knew. They’ve been around. No one had the heart to tell those poor ladies. Its just bad energy that was waiting to come back to bite them. That’s what I think.”

“I’m sorry, bad energy?” Dean said gesturing his hand around the air.

“Mhm, it was actually their wives that told them to get the tattoos, they didn’t even want to get them done. Something about spicing up the marriage.”

“And how do you know this?”

Katie placed her glasses on the top of her head “People always overshare to the tattoo artist.”

\--

Instead of one tattoo parlor witch it was two housewives who wanted to get revenge on their husbands for their infidelity. Sam couldn’t count the number of times Dean made a housewife joke on the way back home.

“Keeping up with the Jones’: Witch Edition.” Dean smirked, clearly thinking his joke was hilarious

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone “Dean.”

“Did you see the look on their faces when we showed back up in the middle of their weird séance?” Sam scoffed, but the corners of his lips tilted up in a slight smile “You are way too happy about this case.”

Dean glared but there was a glimmer of playfulness there “Hey, First I was a ‘too pissy’ and now I’m ‘too happy’, what do you want from me, man?”

Sam shook his head “Nothing, dude, I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” He sent a quick text to Eileen saying hello.

The witch case honestly wasn’t that difficult, even though there was two instead of one. Minor bumps and bruises. Dean was now sporting a blooming bruise under his eye from Mrs. Canes' mean right hook but the win seemed to brighten Dean’s spirits.

It was quiet for a while, the music playing between them, a comfortable silence they usually relax into after a case. Dean didn’t want to wait till the next day to start heading home so he drove on the dark highway.

Sam texted Eileen back when she asked Sam how he was doing.

“I think I wanna marry Cas.”

Sam blinked and looked at Dean “I’m sorry, what?”

Dean’s face was serious as he stared at the road “I think I wanna marry Cas. Ya’know, lock it down.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and sputtered “Okay, then marry Cas.”

Dean nodded, okay with Sam’s answer.

“How are you going to ask him?”

Dean scratched lightly at his stubbed cheek, thinking for a moment “I dunno yet. He’s not really a flowers and candy type of guy. To be honest, I haven’t thought that much about it yet, I just know I want to.”

“Well, you got time to think about it” Sam laughed lightly “You should cover yourself naked in bees.”

Dean groaned at the memory “Dude, I don’t know what the hell he was thinking, showing up like that. I don’t know how I’m going to do this proposal thing but I know I’m not doing that. I don’t want to get stung in the wrong places.”

\--

Cas and Jack came back the following night at around four in the morning. The case wasn’t terrible, just a ghost, but Cas was still aching all over. “I’m getting old” He joked to himself. It was still weird getting used to the aches and pains from his human body all over again but the water pressure in the bunker’s showers are amazing and it helped soothe some of the soreness.

After a quick check on Jack to make sure he was fine from their excursion, he climbed in his shared bed with a sleeping Dean. Sighing as his back hit the memory foam. Dean shifted, clearly aware of Castiel’s presence now.

Cas was staring at Dean now, something he always does after hunts. Taking note of what injuries had befallen the hunter. A bruise here, a cut there, all and all Dean has come back way worse from hunts. A little black eye doesn’t worry Cas.

“You going to stare at me all night or are we going to cuddle goddamnit?” Dean slurred, not even half awake. Cas chuckled and pressed a small kiss to Dean’s chin before tucking himself against the hunter. Dean moving to wrap his arms around Cas’ middle.

Dean seemed to be conscious enough to give a chaste kiss to Cas’ lips before falling asleep again. There would be time for heated kisses and relearning bodies later. The ex-angel was just glad that Dean slept soundly through the night.


End file.
